The Psychiatrist's Dilemma
by proudcandy
Summary: Claud knew moving was going to be difficult, but what she didn't know was how difficult her knew tenant was, or how difficult things would get when feelings get thrown into the mix.


There were two things Claude was sure of; the dirt cheap rent of the apartment and its address.

221B Baker Street is what she told the driver when she first climbed into the worn cab.

"You're not from here?" The driver inquired, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"What gave me away?" Claude yawned to the nice looking older man.

"You're too pretty to be a local." He joked.

Claude thought her tangled, mahogany curls and smudged mascara were far cries from "pretty", but still she mustered up a small smile and a thank you.

"You must be from America." The driver guessed. "Are you from Florida? My niece and her husband moved there just last year. Beautiful place, bright, sunny…." He droned on. However Claude seemed to be lost in the seemingly endless rain, it hadn't stopped since she had landed. She began to wonder if moving here was a good idea, it seemed like she had given up blue skies forever.

"No." Claude said, continuing to stare out the window, "I'm not from Florida." Claude, who did not care to elaborate shut her eyes and listened to the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.

* * *

"_Why_?" Sherlock grumbled.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific." John told the man who laid lazily on the couch.

"Why must we get a new tenant?" Sherlock whined, throwing his pajama sleeve over his face.

"We are not _getting_ anything." John began, "Someone just decided to move into the flat below us." He explained as he tidied up a bookshelf.

"Why are you cleaning up as if they will be invited inside our flat?" Sherlock said. John did not respond but instead tried his hardest to clean.

"What if they're an imbecile, John?" Sherlock raised. "Or even worse, _dull_." Sherlock finished dryly.

"Then that's how they are." John simply stated with a shrug. "Either way you will leave them alone. This entails no experiments, no breaking and entering and for god sakes, please, no deductions." John begged.

"But that's just the way _I_ am." Sherlock mocked earning an eye roll from his flat mate.

"_Sherlock_." John said warningly, but Sherlock just grinned in return, happy to have gotten a rouse from the doctor.

"Fine, fine." Sherlock agreed backhandedly. "What is their name?"

"Claud." John said, trying to recall what Mrs. Hudson had told him. "Claud Sparrow."

* * *

The cab jolted to a halt, startling Claud awake.

"Sorry about that Miss, that will be thirty pounds." The driver said as he put the car in park. Claud leafed through her worn satchel bag and pulled out her wallet. Then she placed her knitted newsboy hat on and paid the man, thanking him for the ride.

Claud began to open the door of apartment 221 B while failing to balance her luggage. Claud carefully treaded up the creaky, wooden stairs, her arms were becoming tired from holding her bags, and she made a mental note to resume doing pushups at night.

An annoyed moan escaped Claud's lips as she felt her hat slip off her head, she looked behind her and saw it had landed on the last step.

"You're female."

Claud, now startled, did not have time to look to see who the deep baritone voice belonged as she began her crashing descent down the stairs.

Sherlock was anything but thrilled for a new tenant, he was not the type to lend a cup of sugar, or even say a simple hello in the morning.

This new tenant meant change, Sherlock hated change, which in turn meant Sherlock hated _him_.

When Sherlock had heard labored steps ascending up the stairs, he knew he had to introduce himself, it's what John would want him to do, after all. Sherlock, still in his pajamas stood at the top of the stairs expectantly.

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion when he realized his previous assumptions were incorrect.

"You're female."

Sherlock stood there frozen, perplexed, he had been wrong.

Completely and utterly wrong.

Sherlock hadn't even noticed that the woman before him had toppled down the stairs and onto the large step with a thud.

"What has happened?" John's anxious voice called as he ran out to see all the commotion.

"Our new tenant has arrived." Sherlock stated obviously pointing to the woman just beginning to pick herself up.

"Are you all right?" John asked gently, rushing down the stairs. Claud was frazzled and blinked several times.

"Yeah." Claud said taking the John's hand. "I am."

"Quite goose egg you have there." John told her, pointing to her head. Claud rubbed her head and felt herself begin to frown, the day was beginning to look bleaker with every passing second. "Let me take a peek at it in my flat." John offered, noticing Claud's apprehensiveness he elaborated. "I'm a doctor."

"My things…" Claud trailed off as she looked at the mess of luggage on various steps.

John flicked his hand dismissively, "Sherlock will get them, won't you Sherlock?" Sherlock began to refuse but after looking at John's face he complied.

Once she was seated in a rather plush chair in the flat, John began to examine Claud for an concussion. She was attractive, maybe mid twenty's. John found her to be rather peculiar looking, with her wild hair, small sharp nose and inky eyes that seemed to look right past him and into his soul.

"Any dizziness, sensitivity to light or pain?" John inquired, he watched as she shook her head.

"I think I'm fine, I've taken worse falls." Claud laughed. "Thanks for the once over…." Claud paused trying to recall a name that hadn't been given.

"John Watson." He said with an outstretched hand.

"Thank you Dr. Watson." Claud said shaking his hand.

"You're American, Midwest, judging by your accent." Sherlock's busted in and began to stalk towards Claud, ready for the kill. "You're an only child, and referring to your name your father wanted a boy."

"Sherlock you swore." John said, throwing his head back in annoyance, however Sherlock paid him no mind.

"You usually wash your hair with coconut oil, but since you knew about England's weather you switched to coco butter this week, and judging by your underwear I'd say you are single." Sherlock fired off.

There was a pregnant silence that followed Sherlock's jargon.

"Wow." Claud stated, to which Sherlock grinned triumphantly.

"I'm so sorry-"John began, to Claud it seemed like he was accustomed to apologizing for the other man.

"I don't know what's more amazing, the fact that you are eighty percent correct, or that you actually have the audacity to go through my _personal_ belongings." Claud said through gritted teeth.

"_Eighty__?_" Sherlock scoffed, but it was too late. Claud had already collected her belongings and stormed out of the flat.

* * *

I hope I didn't take them too much out of character, but this is fun to write!

Review please(:


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